


Keeping Up Appearances

by BitterTongue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:59:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTongue/pseuds/BitterTongue
Summary: When an old friend comes back into your life you struggle to maintain the lies you’ve told. Bucky Barnes has no idea what he’s gotten into by agreeing to be your fake boyfriend, but you have no idea what to do about the very real feelings you have for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ported over from my tumblr Cordytriestowrite

Creamy white paper, thick and quality, was clutched in your calloused, unpolished fingers. You read the words again, so beautiful laying across the page in even, flowing cursive.  
I’m coming home finally-  
Want you to meet him-  
Bring your boyfriend-  
Dinner 6pm La Bernardin-  
The letter read like a pen pal, which is what your friend had come to be after years of traveling around the world, but underneath the ink and faint smell of expensive perfume was the readings of a threatening ransom note; let me into your life… or else.  
You took the stairs two at a time reaching the fifth floor much easier than you did when you moved in two years ago. You bypassed your own door, barely casting it a glance. You knocked frantically at the door next to yours, calling out your neighbor’s name loudly.  
“Sam! Sam, open up!”  
Underneath your hand the door gave way. Sam stood in the open doorway, in loose sweatpants and a beer in his hand looking appropriately confused and concerned.  
“Where’s the fire?” He asked, half joking.  
You thrust the letter into his face and barged into his apartment giving him no time to read it. You took a seat on the couch and waited for Sam to join you. He sat down gingerly on the edge of the couch cushion, eyeing you wearily.  
“Remember Pepper Potts? My best friend-”  
“Hey,” Sam interrupted, “I thought I was your best friend.”  
“Best friend before I met you of course.” You amended with a small smile. A comfortable heat settled into your heart at his wide, amused smile, grateful for his friendship in the years you could have felt so alone.  
“Anyway, do you remember her?”  
Sam’s face scrunched up in concentration as he searched the recesses of his memory for a connection to the name. He came up empty and shrugged.  
“She’s the one who took off about three years ago to travel the world. Wanted me to go with her. I didn’t because I couldn’t afford it.” With each sentence you cringed at the verbal admission Sam was forcing you to relive. Your voice trailed on the final word, your tongue stuck to your teeth, unwilling to say what came next. Luckily Sam’s memory was ignited and there was no need to say the words out loud.  
“Ohhhh.” He said in a long ring of realization,  
“She doesn’t know-”  
“Anything.” You finished with a heavy sigh.  
You flung your head against the back of the couch. It was silent for a beat and your eyes refused to open and face the predicament you found yourself in.  
“You gonna tell her?”  
You scoffed, your eyes still closed. Suddenly you felt exhausted. Your fingers traced the edge of the letter. The stationary was too thick to give you a paper cut, too smooth to catch on the ridges of your fingertips, too expensive to sit in your hands.  
“Hell no.”  
“How are you going to keep this up?” He asked in exasperation.  
“I’ll figure something out but right now,” you opened your eyes then and stared down at the words that sent you running up to Sam in the first place.  
“Right now I need you to be my boyfriend.”  
If Sam had been drinking he would have done a spit take. You observed his face with annoyance as it fell slack in shock and disbelief. He reached a large hand up to rub his face and groan.  
“Oh come on, it wouldn’t be so bad-” you started.  
“No it’s not that its just- I have a date tonight.”  
You temporarily forgot your own dilemma. Your smile stretched wide and you lunged toward him in excitement, your palm landing on his knee and squeezing.  
“You finally asked Alli out?”  
“She asked me.” He replied, his eyes averted and his lower lip caught between his teeth.  
You settled back into the couch your eyes trained on Sam’s content smile. You couldn’t ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend. You couldn’t do that to your best friend.  
“Who’s gonna be my date then?”  
“You buyin’?”  
You spun around and craned your neck to see over the back if the couch. Bucky stood in front of the open refrigerator door, perusing its contents. Your took in his tangled brown locks, wrinkled shirt, and Halo printed boxers and sneered.  
“Sorry Bucky you’re not cut out for this date.”  
He turned around, unscrewing the cap off of a jug of orange juice and taking a swig. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and had the audacity to look offended.  
“I clean up pretty nice. Right Sam?”  
You turned to Sam eyebrow raised as if to say really?  
Sam shrugged, “Do you have much of a choice at this point?”  
You checked the time on your phone, 4:30. You had an hour to find someone to play the part of your boyfriend and get ready before taking to the streets. You took Bucky in one more time, eyes critical but appreciative as you admired his strong jaw, wide shoulders, and tapered hips. He had promise. If he could fake it for one night…  
“Okay, okay.” You surrendered finally. Meeting Sam’s amused brown eyes and pulling a face.  
-  
If you had to assess Bucky’s closet it would total out to 50% plain t shirts, 30% work shirts, 18% henley’s, and 2% acceptable for a high end dinner date. You held up two button downs side by side, squinting one eye and then the other eye. Behind your raised hands stood Bucky, bored and disengaged.  
“Just pick one.” He said for the fourth time in five minutes.  
You leveled him a stern stare and continued to evaluate your options eventually settling on the dark blue one, simply because it seemed like it would fit better.  
“My best friend is meeting my boyfriend for the first time. You have to look perfect.”  
“I thought Sam was your best friend.” He said in question, working the buttons of the shirt out of their holes so he could slip it on.  
“Shower first,” you demanded, “and brush your hair.”  
He rolled his eyes and stripped off his baggy t shirt, revealing his tight stomach and rippling muscles. You busied yourself with the remaining buttons of his shirt as he sauntered to the bathroom.  
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding as the door to the bathroom shut. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to settle on Bucky as your fake boyfriend. It was too close to what you really wanted. For two years now you had felt like a high school girl, hanging out at your friend’s house to catch glimpses of their cute older brother. You of course loved Sam and weren’t just using him to be close to Bucky, but there was a reason you hung out in their apartment more than yours.  
The start of the shower jolted you from your thoughts. You set down the shirt gently on Bucky’s unmade bed, smoothing the fabric as if it would gather wrinkles in the few minutes Bucky wasn't wearing it. You scurried out of his room and waved goodbye to Sam in his own room, buttoning up his own shirt for his own date, though his was a real date with someone who actually liked him that way. Quietly you closed the door of their apartment to took the three steps to your own door, unlocking it with your keys and slipping inside. You hoped you had kept at least one La Bernardin’s worthy dress.


	2. Chapter 2

Manhattan glimmered in what remained of the day’s light. You could see it as you crossed the Manhattan bridge in Bucky’s car. It’s like it was mocking you, presenting places you remembered vividly, like how you would remember a dream right after waking up. You had hoped the memories, like your dreams, would fade over time until the specifics were so fuzzy it wasn’t worth trying to recall, but here they were cutting through your mind like sharp scissors.  
Most of your Manhattan memories included Pepper. Shopping, dining, living, dancing, roaming the streets at three in the morning just to see who was awake; that was who you used to be.  
Bucky let out a low whistle as he passes La Bernardin looking for a place to park. You quickly look down at your dress. You hoped Pepper didn’t recognize it, having helped you pick it out on one of your many shopping trips. The black fabric was only slightly faded and you hoped the lighting of the restaurant would stave off any notice. You quickly swiped your eyes over Bucky again, hair brushed and styled, shirt unwrinkled, he didn’t shave but you liked the way the stubble framed his full lips.  
You hadn’t noticed he had pulled into a parking garage not far from La Bernardin until he was unbuckling his seat belt. You checked the time displayed on the dash before the car was shut off: 5:52 pm. You released yourself from the seat belt and turned your body awkwardly towards the driver’s seat prompting Bucky to remain in the car despite the air rapidly becoming hot and stuffy.  
“Whatever level they reach we have to match it, otherwise it won’t look real.”  
He nodded, but the look in his eyes told you he did not really take in the significance of your words. He hadn’t met Pepper, he doesn’t know the way she thinks.  
“I’m serious. If they are holding hands, we have to hold hands. If they feed off of each other’s plates we do too. If they kiss-”  
“I get it! I get it!” Bucky says with a laugh, escaping the uncomfortable heat of the car. You followed him out and took the slight slope down to the garage entrance.  
“I do want to draw a line right now. If he starts sucking on her toes I’m not doing that. Feet creep me out.”  
You shoved him lightly for his joke but didn’t protest when he came back to you so that your shoulders brushed closer than before. You needed his jokes, you needed his casual attitude to anchor you down. Was this how you always used to be? So on edge and guarded, thinking every word and action thoroughly before execution; how had you survived this. You didn’t you thought bitterly, you only prolonged the inevitable.  
She was seated at the table already, facing the door and giving you no time to compose yourself or stop Bucky’s ogling as he took in the decor. You should have told him to act like he had been here before.  
She waved, her movements the perfect mixture of relaxed and controlled, the wave of royalty. You lifted your hand back and wiggled a few fingers, feeling like your hand was too big all of a sudden and you realized your nails were still short and unpolished. You brought your hand quickly to your side. She stood as you reached the table and drew you into a hug.  
“How are you?” She gushed, he voice loud in your ear but soft in the hush of the restaurant, “I’ve missed you so much. Come on, sit.”  
Bucky, who had stood a respectable distance back as you reunited, strode forward as you parted. He grabbed the back of his chair and pulled it out, sitting before you. Pepper raised an eyebrow, in the minute way she did when she found something interesting. You lowered yourself into your chair next to Bucky and across from Pepper.  
“So, where is he? I thought we were introducing boyfriends today.” You tried to play it off as a joke, keeping your smile affixed to your face, but inside you were fuming. If her boyfriend didn’t show up then you and your ‘boyfriend’ would be the main show for the evening and the facade wouldn’t make it through the first course.  
“He’s running a little late.” Was all she said.  
The waiter came around with sparkling water and a wine menu which you studiously ignored, needing your wits about you. Bucky didn’t seem interested in the wine or the water, and his face was becoming more and more of a grimace as his eyes read each line of the menu.  
“Babe,” you called, the word sounding odd in your ears as you looked at Bucky, “introduce yourself to Pepper.” You added a subtle hand to his knee under the table, hoping he would respond to the pet name but ready to squeeze if his attention did not redirect to your friend.  
He looked up and smiled wide, first at you, then at Pepper, “Bucky Barnes.”  
His hand reached out dangerously between the glasses to shake hers. You watched Pepper accept his hand with grace and quirk her eyebrow just so again. You wanted to bang your head against the table. You wish you had had more time to coach Bucky, he didn’t even know the basics!  
Pepper opened her mouth, as if to ask Bucky a question, but her eyes moved from him to just behind you. Her face broke out into a wide smile, her shining eyes crinkling. She looked so happy it took you aback. You turned slightly and watched the object of her attention stroll toward your table, head high and confidence palpable. It felt like he owned the room and very well might have, because he was Tony Stark. The Tony Stark!  
“Holy shit.” Bucky muttered in disbelief, you should have scolded him with a glare or a squeeze to his knee but you were just as shocked. Tony Stark rounded the table, kissing the top of Pepper’s head before settling himself into the last empty seat at the table.  
There were no need for introductions, everyone knew Tony Stark and Tony Stark didn’t care to know anyone but Pepper. He flagged down a random waiter and ordered a bottle of wine so quickly you couldn’t even catch the name. He must come here a lot or expect wherever he goes to have exactly what he wants.  
“Sorry, conference call ran over. Did you order yet?” He said to Pepper and only to Pepper. You must not even register on his radar. You started when you felt an arm encircle your upper back. You turned to look at Bucky, the first time your eyes had left your latest dining guest. His head tilted slightly to the couple across from you and you noticed Tony’s arm draped over the back of Pepper’s chair as they spoke quietly. You turned back to Bucky and smiled with a nod of approval.  
You breathed deeply and settled into the crook of Bucky’s arm, half wanting to seem at ease and half finding yourself actually at ease, feeling warm and comfortable as you inhaled the scent of his deodorant. It wasn’t expensive or heavily perfumed, in fact you were sure Bucky used Old Spice bought in packs of two or four but the smell mixed appealingly with his own scent and you breathed in deep and greedy wondering if you would ever get to be this close to him again, wondering if next time it could be because he wanted to and not just for show.  
Tony proceeded to order for everyone when the waiter came back with the wine. You smiled in thanks as a glass was poured for you but did not touch the expensive alcohol. You continued to smile so politely it made your jaw hurt. You weren’t a fan of the oysters Tony got for the table.  
“So how did this happen?” Bucky asked when the waiter left, his free hand moving back and forth between Pepper and Tony. Your hand, which you just realized was still on his knee, was warm and sweaty. You moved it up and down in short strokes along his pants to dry it.  
“We actually met at a friend’s wedding in Scotland.” Pepper began with a gush of happiness, your painful smile relaxed. You were happy to see her so happy.  
“We both knew the groom-” Pepper continued while Tony was leant back against his chair, sipping wine. His eyes remained only on Pepper behind his purple tinted glasses. They looked happy. They looked like they were in love. You hoped you and Bucky looked the same.  
“-After a few months of long distance I ended my trip early and came back home to be with him.” She finished, bringing her body back against her seat and looking into Tony’s eyes. They were lost to the outside world for a few moments and you felt Bucky shift uncomfortably next to you. They broke their connection when Pepper turned to face you again.  
“Tell me how you met. You have been so secretive about this one in your letters.” Pepper said with a finger trained towards Bucky.  
Your eyes widened and your breath hitched in your throat. You hadn’t thought of this, hadn’t come up with a cute story of how you two met. You were so screwed.  
“We met when she moved in next door to me about two years ago.” Bucky began in your silence, “The day she moved in was very noisy. I could hear her all day though the wall of my bedroom. Around eleven I was in bed and I heard this loud banging that was rattling my wall. I got out of bed so pissed off and I stomped over to her door and banged just as loudly as she had been doing on my wall. She opened the door and all anger I felt melted away.” He looked over to you then as if you were the only two people in the room as he continued. “She just looked so adorable in her pajamas with her hair a mess. We got to talking and…here we are.”  
Bucky was good. Very, very good. It wasn't the exact story. Yes, you had met the day you moved in and yes you had been hammering a few nails into the wall you didn’t know you shared with Bucky. But when Bucky came around banging on your front door late at night there was no beginnings to a love story. What you did could barely be considered talking it was more of a screaming match.  
“Do you know what time it is?”  
“Do you? Because you’re the one banging on my door at almost midnight.”  
“You’re the one banging on my wall at almost midnight.”  
The whole thing ended with you slamming the door in Bucky’s face. Since then you had calmed down, especially as your friendship with Sam blossomed and you ended up seeing Bucky more and more. You realized Bucky was looking at you in soft amusement that to the others probably looked very romantic. You couldn’t help leaning forward and kissing his cheek whispering a thank you in his ear before pulling back.  
“Cute.” Tony’s tone was short and clipped, like he didn’t think the story was that cute.  
Pepper was watching you with interest, absently rubbing her pointer finger with her other hand.  
“Such thin walls…” she mused, and your spine straightened, ready to find an excuse for your cheap apartment. Before the conversation could continue the first course of dinner was served and the table went silent as they ate or, in the case of Bucky, poke at the small, strange portions of food.  
Throughout dinner and with each glass of wine Tony loosened up into a more engaged character. He was charismatic and a pleasant storyteller and kept Pepper’s attention off of you and Bucky effectively blocking any opportunity to delve too deeply into your relationship. The whole table was laughing along with a story Tony was telling about his trip to Machu Picchu and the alpaca who decided Tony was his new mother when the check arrived.  
You had been dreading this part more than anything else. The time to pay hundreds of dollars for a meal Bucky barely ate and you could barely stomach around your nerves. You fingered your credit card with anticipation of being handed that small black booklet containing your check.  
“Thank you Bradly.” Tony said to the waiter as he handed him a platinum card without making eyes contact. Your shoulders sagged in relief as Bradley walked away from the table.  
“Thank you.” You said, hoping not to sound too relieved as you put away your card.  
Tony nodded once and waved you off draining the last of his wine.  
“Any friend of my fiance is a friend of mine.” He slurred. Pepper smacked his shoulder harshly.  
“Tony!” Pepper chided. Her brows were furrowed in anger but her smile battled to win the feelings fight. She turned to you with a wide smile and pulled a chain from under her collar. Hanging from the end was a stunning, gold band with a large, sparkling diamond practically blinding you and it swung from the chain.  
“Well, the secret is out. We’re engaged!” She squealed with delight practically bouncing in her seat.  
“I can’t match that doll.” Bucky whispered hurriedly in your ear before you rose out of your chair to join Pepper in her excitement.


	3. Chapter 3

Back again in the relative safety of Bucky’s car you let out the breath you had been holding since leaving La Bernardin with Bucky, hand in sweaty hand.  
“Holy fuck.” You cried burying your face in your hands. You voice echoed through the parking garage, its range extended by the open driver’s side door. Bucky had yet to enter the car, a worn leather jacket he had pulled from the back seat sitting in his place. The blue button up came sailing into the car, settling in a wrinkly ball on the center console. The arm of the shirt landed on your leg and you reached out to touch the fabric unthinkingly. The leather jacket disappeared and the seat was filled by a now jacketed Bucky.  
“Hey, look at me.” Bucky called in a gentle, calming voice. You turned your head without bothering to hide your distress. He pulled a half smile that stole your heartbeat for a few skips.  
“It's all over. You survived.” He whispered in the same calm and gentle voice. You scoffed and turned your head to face the windshield and the blank, concrete wall just beyond the car.  
“I don’t know.” You said lowly. You knew it wasn’t over, because when Pepper was standing with you, smiling and laughing and sharing her joy, you felt like you used to. You didn’t want that feeling to end but there is no way in hell you’d survive this.  
But how you used to feel…well that feeling existed because you could afford it. Now, you were making dumb, costly decisions with long term effects, and dragging Bucky along from the ride.  
Bucky tried to meet your eye, but you were steadfast in your staring contest with the wall ahead. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t admit you fucked up. Your eyes flicked to his hand as it reached toward you but stopped just short of your thigh to encircle the gear shift and put the car in reverse.  
“I don’t know about you but I am hungry for some real food.” He said in a purposely lighter and louder voice. You nodded absently.  
“Look, no offense, but oysters taste like snot.”  
You weren’t offended, you thought they tasted like snot too.  
-  
A large pizza, fresh and hot, sat upon your lap. It smelled divine and you couldn’t wait to get home, get out of your dress and into some sweats, and head over to Bucky’s and Sam’s and eat this giant, greasy pizza. You wanted to hear about Sam’s date. You hoped your friend had a better time than you did. As if Sam knew you were thinking of him, his name appeared on Bucky’s phone, which lay atop the pizza box in your lap.  
“You got a text from Sam.” You told him and he distractedly picked it up. He read the message at a stop sign, only taking a couple seconds to take in the contents and let his face fall into a slight frown.  
“That bastard kicked me out of my own place!” Bucky exclaimed, dropping the phone back onto the box. You smirked at the dark screen. Sam’s date must be going really well.  
“Looks like you’re sleeping in the hall tonight.” You teased.  
“Nah, I’ll just stay at my girlfriend’s for the night.” He countered. It sent a jolt of panic through your chest, thinking he had a girlfriend you didn’t know about, but just as quickly as your body tingled with nerves had they settled into bashfulness at the realization that he meant you. You were the girlfriend he was talking about. He intended to stay the night with you.  
“Yeah, yeah of course you can.” You managed to stutter out. He turned into the garage under your apartment building and suddenly let out a laugh, like he just remembered a joke.  
“I’m gonna finally see what you were hanging up on your wall. It is the reason we are together after all. Better be a Monet or some shit.” He winked, a brief and blurry vision in the darkness of the underground car park.  
Bucky had never been in your apartment, you always going to Sam and his instead, so when he walked in behind you carrying the pizza you were nervous. You had manage to salvage a few pieces of decor and furniture from when you lived in Manhattan; a nice large L shaped couch, your bed frame, and an ornate, gold-framed full length mirror. All the other items in your apartment where either provided by the building manager or purchased from consignment shops. It was an eclectic mix of quality and convenience.  
Whatever comment you thought Bucky would make was not spoken out loud. He simply parked himself on the couch like he owned the place and opened the pizza box. Without waiting for you to grab plates he dug into a hot and greasy slice of pepperoni pizza. He moaned loudly as the taste flooded his mouth. The sound sent a shiver down your spine and you busied yourself with gathering plates and napkins until your face felt less heated.  
“This pizza is way better than any other food we had tonight.” He said as you settled in on the other side of the couch. You nodded in agreement.  
“Cheaper too.” You added offhandedly. You wouldn't have said it if you had known it was bring you into a discussion you didn't want to be having with the fake boyfriend you had a very real crush on.  
“So how did you get yourself into this mess? To me it seems like you used to be loaded like them and now you’re not but you don't want her to know?” Bucky’s finger moved between invisible points in the air between you as if he was connecting the dots to a larger picture.  
“That’s basically it yeah.” You admitted. You had no intention of telling him more than you had to. You ate your pizza slowly, it was good but the taste in your mouth was dampened by anxiety.  
“But how does she not know?” He asked incredulously.  
“She’s been traveling all over the world since college. We’ve only communicated through letters and they were very infrequent. Only one or two a month.”  
“Does she not have Facebook? Instagram?”  
“She does,” you leaned back against the couch, chewing thoughtfully as you reminisced on the days leading up to her departure. “She said she wanted to be pen pals while she was gone. She thought it would be more exciting to anticipate a letter than an email. Pepper is the kind of friend who will create something special just for you and make you feel like you mean something. She wanted to write letters, they meant something to her. And to me.” You realized with a slight bitterness that now that Pepper was back that special connection would be gone.  
“If your friendship is so special why hide things from her? Why lie? I don't get it.” Bucky’s voice broke into your head and along with bitterness you felt a pinch of guilt.  
“I’m in too deep now. I’ve been lying for months. About my living situation, my job, my family-”  
“Your boyfriend.” Bucky interjected, his tone accusatory though his expression was nothing but playful. You nodded and leaned forward to drop your pizza crust onto a chipped blue plate before sinking back into the couch.  
Bucky put down his slice as well and closed the distance between you. You tensed as he invaded your space, his shoulder pressed against yours heavily as he leaned into you.  
“Ya know, she’s probably going to be using social media more. Might not hurt to take some pictures together. Just to really sell it?” He asked it like he wasn't sure you would see his reasoning and you were doubtful, suspicious even.  
“You’re willing to do that for me? What about other people? What if you actually like someone and they think you’re with me?”  
He shrugged and pulled out his phone pressing his thumb to the camera icon. You took in the image of your two faces. You were close but not boyfriend girlfriend close. You angled your head closer and tried to smile naturally but it was obviously strained.  
“No, no come on my ma’s gonna see this you gotta look like you don't hate me.” He laughed, staring into the phone instead of your face. You shoved him and pulled your head away to look at him.  
“I don’t hate you.” You said in your defense, “I just don't think we look-”  
“Like a couple?” He finished. He was really good at finished your thoughts.  
“Here.” He said and shifted into the middle of the sofa. Once he was settled he all but dragged you onto his lap. You felt like a ragdoll in the way you let him maneuver you, but when he pulled up his phone again you could not be upset at his manhandling. You two looked cute. You looked like a couple. You smiled, a small, shy smile and Bucky hit the big white button to capture your image.  
“Better. Right babe?”  
You smiled wider and another photo was taken. His free hand dug into your side and you laughed and the button was pressed again. His lips pressed against yours, only a peck, enough to produce one more photo. You sat frozen on Bucky’s lap as he brought the phone close to his face and scrutinized the images. His hand rested warmly on your hip and occasionally his thumb rubbed back and forth.  
“I like this one.” He finally declared, showing you the screen. It was the one where he tickled you unexpectedly. Your head was thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open in laughter. Bucky was looking up at you, the corners of he eyes crinkled in delight as he smiled widely, and there was a crinkle in his nose. You bit your lip to suppress a smile.  
“I like it to.” You whispered, moving your finger over the screen to glance at the other photos. You wanted to see all of them but you mostly wanted to see the kiss, to make sure you didn't imagine his lips on yours. The proof was there, clear as day, but you didn’t linger too long on the photo. You were afraid of what Bucky would think, if he would regret kissing you because you were being weird about it.  
“I’ll send these to you. We need to post a few online.”  
-  
It was hours later as you lie in bed that you had a chance to really take in all the pictures Bucky had sent. You drank in each image, zooming in and out on your face, then Bucky’s. Bucky was right, the laughing photo was definitely the best. It seemed natural and fun. But your favorite was the one where he kissed you, because he had kissed you! Your mouths were off center and the muscles in your neck were too tense. His eyes were scrunched tight too. It was a really terrible picture.  
You locked your phone and plunged yourself into darkness as a creaking sound emerged in the silence. Bucky was spending the night on your couch, his attempt to persuade you to let him join you in your bed had failed almost immediately as nerves overcame you. You thought if he had been there in bed, all warm and hard against you on your queen sized mattress, that you would not be able to sleep a wink. Your instincts were right; you weren’t able to sleep now with the man crashing in your living room, how could you have handled him in your bed?  
The bedroom door opened slowly, bathing your dark space in light. You squinted against the sudden brightness, attempting to make out Bucky’s expression but he was silhouetted in shadow.  
“It's late enough. I think I can sneak into my own apartment.”  
You nodded and sat up, but Bucky was already beyond your doorway. You turned the corner into your living room just in time to glance his backside as he closed you front door gently behind him. He didn't turn back, didn't even say goodbye. You locked the door with a dejected sigh, suddenly feeling like your apartment was dark and cold without Bucky’s bright, warm presence. You shuffled your way back to your bed. It took a minute to get settled but once you were snuggled in the blankets you pulled up your phone again, swiping through the images of you and Bucky. Somehow these moments already felt so long ago.  
Knock knock knock  
A gentle rasp of knuckles on drywall near your head stole your attention. You smiled and bit your lip, bringing your clenched fist to the spot where you heard the knocks.  
Knock knock knock  
He knocked back twice more. Your face was split wide in a grin as you posted a couple photos of you and Bucky to Facebook. You decided to keep the picture of your first kiss with Bucky to yourself for now.


	4. Chapter 4

If it were not for the notifications your phone was still alerting you of, all the comments and likes your photo was receiving, you would have been able to deny that your fake relationship with Bucky had gone public. With every buzz of your phone against the bedside table you were piece by piece pulled from sleep until you could no longer ignore consciousness in favor of sleeping in. You settled against your pillows in an upright position and pulled the phone from its charging cable. Your lock screen was filled to the brim with notifications, something you weren't used to seeing since you rarely posted pictures of yourself and your handsome neighbor canoodling on your couch.   
There were a few text messages, all from Sam. They were mostly ribbing you and Bucky, asking about your date and the picture he saw online. The final one was sent only five minutes ago inviting you over.   
You contemplated leaving your soft, warm bed and joining Sam and Bucky for morning coffee but decided against it. You would need time to toughen up against Sam's teasing.   
The other notifications were all from Instagram and Facebook, where you posted the photo of you and Bucky not even eight hours ago. There were fewer Instagram likes as you neglected the platform, your post with Bucky was only your fifth post of the year. It say pretty at twenty likes, and that was with only the tag #boyfriend.   
Facebook was another story, and you were confused as to why until you opened the app and noticed Bucky had tagged himself. The majority of the likes were from his friends but a few of your own were sprinkled amongst the unfamiliar names; Pepper, Natasha Romanoff who you met in college, and your most of your coworkers. There were a few comments as well that made you laugh.  
Sam Wilson About time!  
Clint Barton Thanks Buck, now I owe Steve $20.   
Steve Rogers Thanks for helping me make $20 man. I told Clint you weren't hopeless.

You wondered who Clint and Steve were and what kind of bet they had going about Bucky. The giddiness you had felt upon seeing all your likes and comments slowly tapered off. The reactions to your post meant nothing outside of the like from Pepper, which took her two taps and probably not even a second glance. It suddenly felt like it wasn't worth posting, worth faking, all for someone who didn't care enough to comment. You closed the app, not wanting to see yourself so happy in Bucky's arms. 

Morning beautiful 

Bucky's text rolled down from the top of your screen so innocent and sweet. You'd sour mood lifted almost instantly. There were some aspects of this ruse that made it worthwhile, and attention from Bucky was at the top of that very short list.

Come over?

-

Usually, if you were to spend the morning hanging out with Sam, you would do so in whatever you rolled out of bed wearing with your hair messy and your face bare, but that was before. Outfit after outfit fell to the floor of your bedroom as you pulled them off, unsatisfied with how they looked. It shouldn't be this difficult to go one apartment over and enjoy hanging out with Bucky and Sam. You resolutely pulled your pajamas back out from the bottom of the newly formed pile. You didn't have to make a big deal out of it, you shouldn't. You left your apartment before you could change your mind.

“Took you long enough.” Sam called from the kitchen as you shut the front door behind you. He was working a pan of scrambled eggs a plate of pancakes already stacked on the counter. You rolled your eyes and joined him in the kitchen, leaning your hip against the counter.

“How was your date?” you asked, though you really didn't need to. You could tell from the easy smile that had yet to leave his face that it went well. 

“It was great. She was great. I'm really glad I asked her out.” 

You nodded and stole the flapjack from the top of the pile and took a bite, too hungry to wait for the meal to be served. You looked toward Bucky's door and saw that it was closed. Should you go in there?

“How was your date? Bucky hasn't let me in on much.” Sam's voice cut into your thoughts and you turned back to him to find him plating the cooked eggs. You shrugged and tried to play it cool. You knew Sam saw the picture and he knew the crush you harbored on Bucky. 

“It went well enough. Pepper seemed to buy it.” 

Sam made a noise in the back of his throat. One that conveyed his doubt. You gave him an odd look and poked him in the side. He took a step away from your offending appendage.

“I still don't get why you have to lie to her.”

You sighed and let your head fall back before resting it on one shoulder. You felt tired all of a sudden, like the fatigue you used to feel when your mother lectured you to do better in school. Sam offered you up a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon which you took gratefully. The two of you made your way to the living room with your plates and cups of coffee. You wanted to ask after Bucky, but couldn't figure out a way not to be teased about it. After a few minutes of watching tv and eating breakfast Bucky's door opened. 

His hair was still damp from his shower, strands of hair still spilling droplets of water onto his shirt. He was clad in his mechanic uniform and fixated on an active phone call. 

“Yeah I'm leaving now. See ya soon.”

He ended the call and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a paper plate and a handful of pancakes. He had yet to acknowledge either of you, though Sam didn't care as much as you did. He was still watching the rerun of jeopardy he had put on. Bucky had to feel you gaze didn't he? You were practically ogling the man in uniform as he killed about the kitchen. It's like he was purposefully avoiding the inevitable greeting. You felt a flush on confusion and uncertainty. Did you misread his text messages? Maybe he didn't actually want you to come over. As Bucky made his way out of the kitchen and to the front door, which meant passing the living room, he must've realized he had to offer some form of recognition.

“Steve called. Gotta go into work for a few hours.” 

He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, the other clutching a lunch box and thermos. Sam’s eyes left the television and settled upon his roommate but Bucky's eyes, and explanation, were solely for you. 

“Have fun.” You said stupidly, wishing you could find some words that wouldn't make you feel like an idiot around him. You grabbed your coffee cup and took a large mouthful of the lukewarm liquid, forcing your silence. 

Bucky nodded and took a step toward the door before turning back and closing the space between you. His fingers lifted your chin and his lips brushed briefly to your forehead. You felt heat flash through you that had nothing to do with the coffee you had just swallowed. Bucky let his fingers drop from your chin.

“See ya, doll.”

“You know you don't have to fool me right?” Sam called through his mouthful of eggs as Bucky closed the door behind him. With Bucky now gone Sam's attention turned to you. You tried to drop the small smile from your lips but it was a battle you were destined to lose. 

“How fake is this relationship really?”

“Shut up.” You whined, hiding your face in the throw pillow next to you. Sam laughed out loud and hit your hidden head with another couch pillow.

Teasings from Sam slowly subsided throughout the rest of the morning, notably after he began texting who you could only assume to be Alli judging by the way he glanced at his phone every few second coupled with the way he bit his lip as he texted back. You excused yourself after the third episode of jeopardy ended. 

Your phone rang while you were in the shower a few hours later. Despite your rush to reach your phone with slippery feet and soap in your hair you missed the call. You attempted to wipe your sopping wet hands on your damp towel but you still struggled to unlock your phone. The call you missed was from Pepper and her name seemed so foreign to see on screen. For so long you had only seen her name handwritten at the end of long letters, with large P's and a heart shaped O on her last name. You wondered if she would ever send you another letter now that she was back in New York for good. Your phone let our an echoing chime to let you know Pepper had left you a voicemail. You wiped your hand on the bottom edge of your towel and set the phone down, Pepper’s voice coming loud through the speakers. 

“Hey girl! I'm just doing a bit of shopping in SoHo and wanted to see if you were free. I thought maybe we could do lunch? That Thai place is still there, the one on Grand, ya know? Anyway I guess it's just weird being back and i could use a friend, these shopping bags are heavy! Okay, bye.”

Your heart clenched as the voicemail ended. You could hear the truth in her voice despite the light hearted and giggly tone. Pepper Potts was lonely in the heart of New York. Pepper Potts needed you, her best friend. You sprinted back into the bathroom, feet now dry enough to risk the speed. If you finished up now you could meet her in the next hour.


	5. Chapter 5

“You're a lifesaver.” Pepper sighs out as you relieve her hands of a few shopping bags. You glance down at the names printed on the sides, all brands you could no longer afford. Your mouth tilted into a frown.  
“Are you done shopping?”   
Pepper nodded with a small smirk, “For now.”  
You followed her down the sidewalk of the shopping district where Pepper told you to meet. You couldn't walk side by side due to the amount of bags in each of your hands, jutting out and extending your width by a couple of feet. Pepper led the way out of the crowds of shoppers and families to a nondescript black sedan parked at the meter.   
“Happy open the trunk!” She shouted through the cracked passenger window. The driver's seat rose back to an upright position and the man inside fumbled around with the dash before the trunk opened with a small pop. Pepper nudged it further open by wedging a Macy's bag in the gap. You stepped up beside her and dropped your set of bags with little care for the contents, just wanting to feel your fingers again.  
Pepper playfully pushed you into the back seat of the car and directed Happy to the Thai restaurant. Happy’s disposition was far from his namesake as he pulled out of the parking spot. You turned your attention to Pepper, who didn't seem to spare Happy a second thought.  
“Tony's place is so bleak.” She began with a sigh as she leaned back against the seat. “I had to pick up some things to bring it life and color.”  
You furrowed your brows, “You're living together?”  
She looked at you as if you had two heads, “Well yeah.”  
“What happened to your apartment?”  
“I rented it out to Natasha when I left. I don't want to kick her out now that I'm back. Plus we're getting married so moving in with Tony makes sense.”  
You hadn't seen Natasha since college so you were surprised to find out she had been only a few districts away in an apartment you had practically lived in in your early twenties. You wondered how much Natasha paid for the space, if Pepper even cared for the income or if she didn't blink as the money come in every month. It was the biggest change in your life, how much you thought about money. You struggled to bring yourself back to the present and conversation faltered. The ride was silent save the GPS guiding Happy through the city streets.  
The restaurant simply labeled Thai was far from a hole in the wall. The place was clean and the food was good, but most importantly it was open late and that's what you and Pepper needed in your college years. It had been your saving grace on those late nights. Entering through the glass door to the smell of curry and fried food immediately sent you back to nights after finals or clubbing. You could see you and Pepper, so young and wild, giggling obnoxiously through roasted duck and pad thai in a corner booth. How were things so simple back then?   
You and Pepper settled into a booth on the opposite side of the room from where you imagined your college selves. But as soon as your orders were in your giggles were back. It was like the old times all over again, when the world was just you a Pepper.   
“Remember,” Pepper sputters as she gasps for air. You were causing quite a scene, just as you had back then. “Remember when you had that final and almost missed it because we were so hungover?”  
You speared a piece of duck and chuckled.  
“Oh yeah, the professor was super uptight about being on time and we woke up 30 minutes after the final started.”  
Another fit of girlish giggles evoked glances your way from the other patrons.  
“But me, being the genius I am, found a way to get the test rescheduled.”  
“By sending like, 30 different food deliveries to my professor! She literally barred the door during the retake; you should have seen her.”  
Pepper turned around and grabbed a menu from the empty booth behind her.   
“What can I say I like sending a lot of food to people. Speaking of…” She trailed off, bringing a manicured finger to a line on the menu.   
“You said Bucky was at work right?”  
You could feel the color drain from your face as you followed Pepper's line of thought.   
“No, no, we cannot send a bunch of food to him.”  
“Why not? His employees would probably get a kick out of it.”  
You swallowed heavily. You had mentioned Bucky was working, yes, but you didn't in any way indicate Bucky was the boss. He might be, you didn't know much about Bucky's role at the auto repair shop but you doubted he ran the place. Pepper stuck out her bottom lip in a small pout before conceding.  
“Fine, we will get a reasonable amount of food and hand deliver it to them. I'm sure you'd earn girlfriend points.”  
“What if I don't need them?” You countered, put off by the idea. Why couldn't it just be a girls day? You wanted to see Bucky, of course you did, but you had no clue how he would react if you just showed up at his place of business unannounced two days into your fake relationship.  
Pepper rolled her eyes and stood from the booth, smoothing the wrinkles of her dress. There weren't any, the quality of the fabric preventing creases from settling, but she did it anyway.   
“Whatever you say. Find out how many of his employees are working today and I'll go order when I get out of the bathroom.  
And that's how you ended up back in the car, arms full of takeout boxes and stomach full of nerves. You had texted Bucky and after a minute called him, but he didn't pick up. In a panic you called Sam, who gave you the address of the shop and an approximation of staff. You could tell from Sam's voice he was reveling in your turmoil and both you and Bucky would no doubt have to deal with his teasing when you got home.   
Happy turned the corner and the shop came into view. Despite the open garage doors you caught no sight of Bucky from the outside. Pepper was practically vibrating with excitement and you couldn't understand why she was deriving so much enjoyment from this endeavor when all it did was fill you with dread. She was out of the car before Happy could put it in park. You followed behind her quickly.  
“Alright boys, who's hungry?” Pepper said in a sing song voice. Curious heads popped out from behind cars and equipment, one of them calling your name. Bucky came barreling toward you, his blue eyes intense. Your eyes never left his, like a deer stuck in headlights you waited for the collision.   
“What are you doing here?”  
“We come bearing gifts.” Pepper interjects and the eye contact finally breaks as Bucky glances over at her. She holds up the bags in her hand.   
“Hope you and your employees like Thai.”  
A small crowd had formed around the food and the chatter almost drowned out Bucky's words spoken closely to your ear.   
“Come with me.”  
You didn't have a choice, Bucky's hand grabbed for yours and pulled. You dropped the takeout on a tall toolbox as you were led away from the group. He led you to a small office in the corner of the large, open room. The door clicked shut behind you and the long blinds clanged against the door a few times before settling into stillness. Bucky finally let you go and ran both hands through his hair before absently pulling it into a low bun.   
“What the hell is happening?” He says, his voice low despite the room being empty besides the two of you.  
“Pepper wanted to bring you all lunch.” You said simply, shoulders shrugging in an attempt to lessen the intensity in the air. Playing dumb wasn't the proudest move, but it was an effective one. Bucky began to pace the short length of the room, his hands pushing his hair behind his ears repeatedly. He chewed on his lip and you waited for what he might say next.   
“I'm sorry. I just wasn't prepared. Not that I don't want to play boyfriend right now but…” He trailed off.  
“I know and I'm really sorry. I thought it would be too suspicious if I didn't let her do this.” He nodded in silent agreement.  
“She called them my employees. You know I don't run this place right? The guys are bound to correct her. What will you do then?” He suddenly stops pacing and leans against the desk at the far end of the room, his arms crossed.  
You shrug, “I guess I didn't think it through.”  
Bucky chuckled and shook his head before tossing a thumb over his shoulder.  
“You're lucky Peggy isn't here. If she heard anything about me being boss she’d kick my ass.”   
You look behind him to a picture of a beautiful young woman with red lips and dark hair standing next to an older man with the shop in the background. She was beautiful and you couldn't help but wonder how a woman like her came to own a shop like this. You also couldn't help the next thought that came unbidden to your mind: What was her relationship with Bucky? Was it more than that of a boss and employee? You frowned and reminded yourself that you and Bucky weren't really together and it was none of your business how he felt about Peggy.   
“Alright, here's the deal.” Bucky interrupts your thoughts, walking over to stand before you. Your faces are close and Bucky kept his voice low. “You and Pepper leave within the next five minutes and-”   
The door bangs open, the blinds clatter loudly as they arc away from the door and fall back. “For the last time Peggy's office is not a up for grand when she's not here.”   
You step back from Bucky in surprise, eyes fixated on the intruder. His hair was fair and his jaw strong, with eyes of deep blue. He was gorgeous even with a bit of grease on his cheekbone and forehead. He seemed surprised, judging by the way his eyebrows rose as his gaze met Bucky's.  
“Sorry Buck, I saw- I didn't know it was you.”  
“It’s okay Steve. This is my girlfriend. Her and a friend brought us lunch.” Bucky's arm snaked around your waist to rest on your hip.  
“The one from the picture.” Steve affirms and with a dazzling smile and a slight nod of his head he says, “Pleasure to finally meet you.”  
Even though his words were cut short you followed Bucky's instructions and planned to leave within five minutes of exiting the office. You left the room together and were met with whoops and hollers from the mechanics gathered around the half empty cartons of Thai. Bucky rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath at you.   
“This is why they're called the howling commandos.”   
You didn't quite understand what he meant by that but nodded all the same, mostly because Bucky's hand hadn't left your waist and he was so close that when he whispered his nose brushed through the hair above your ear. You pulled away to rejoin Pepper on the other side of the circle closest to the open garage door, immediately missing Bucky's warmth and the way the tips of his fingers had dug into you like he didn't want to let you go, or maybe you were just imagining the last part.  
Pepper smiled widely at you, “So I know it's not much of a prank but this was pretty fun.”  
“Who are you and what have you done with Pepper Potts?” You joked, but behind your smile was a genuine question. The Pepper you knew, the Pepper you had even reconnected with at dinner yesterday, wasn't the type of girl to have anything to do with a place like this. It was funny how she looked so at ease in a setting you had never seen her in, how she wore her crisp white button up blouse and didn't worry at all the grease and grime that could get it dirty. You wondered how much had changed in Pepper's life since you could say you really knew her. Was it anywhere near how much your life had shifted? No, you thought instantly, because Pepper still had money. Your heart felt like a solid stone in your chest, the weight of his making your eyes water.  
“Hey I'm not feeling to well. Mind if we head out?”   
You didn't miss the concern that passed over her expression, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She nodded and smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.  
“You always did get heartburn after Thai.”   
Pepper turned and announced your departure which was received with some farewells and ‘no don’t go's from the howling commandos as Bucky called them. You didn't make quite a big show of it, leaving the dramatics to Pepper, but offered a small wave as you turned around to leave.  
“Ay Buck ain't ya gonna say goodbye to your girl?”   
You turned back around, your internal organs temporarily frozen. He should say goodbye, it's what a boyfriend would do and he had to play along, but part of you was waiting for the rejection because it was all a lie and Bucky could out you at any time. He held a power over you, a power that went above the crush you had on him. He held your life in his hands, the same hands reaching out to cup your cheeks and pull you in.  
You saw the kiss coming, watched full on as Bucky held your face and relaxed his lips. Your heart went wild, beating so hard you were sure everyone could see it thrashing beneath your clothes. You were kissing Bucky Barnes, and not an unexpected peck like the first time. No, it was a full lips moving with the right amount of tongue kiss. He tasted like curry and it made your lips tingle, or maybe that was the adrenaline. Noise came flooding back into your ears a few seconds later, finally overpowering the rush of blood that took your sense of hearing from you. The air was filled with whistles and cheers. You pulled away, Bucky's hands still holding your face close to his. You could feel your cheeks heating up beneath his palms and wondered if he could feel it to. You thought if he mentioned it you would have to pack up and move very far away.  
“I'll see you tonight?”  
You nodded, mind barely taking in the words. Your hand reached up to brush against your bottom lip, but you stop it halfway there, realizing how revealing such an action would be.   
Bucky smiled fondly at you, his eyes crinkled in amusement. How was he so composed after a kiss like that? Because it doesn't mean anything to him you reminded yourself. The thought brought your wits back to you like stepping under the spray of a cold shower. You reached up both hands to remove Bucky from your cheeks, he did not fight it but instead of just dropping his hands back to his side he let you guide his hands all the way back down and when they lay between you he readjusted his grip so your palms were cupped together and you were holding hands.   
“Pepper it was great seeing you again. The four of us should get together soon.”   
Pepper agreed and tentative arrangements were made between them for next week. You tried to join in on the planning but your mind could only replay the kiss over and over again.   
“Bye, doll.” Bucky said, releasing your hands and walking backwards back to his coworkers. You watched him roll his eyes and smile slightly as the volume rose. He turned with arms open and readily accepted the taunts and teasing and you hoped you didn't cause too much damage to Bucky's reputation at the shop.  
Happy was waiting outside the car, looking put out. He opened the back door but didn't wait for you and Pepper to enter before going around the car to the driver's seat.   
You didn't want to talk. You wanted to go home, lock the door, and squeal like a teenage girl. Then you wanted to relive the kiss over and over before Bucky came home. Pepper had no way of knowing how much this kiss meant to you, if she did she probably would have allowed you to stew in your giddy mood.   
“I think you two are a good couple.” She said lightly as she stared out the window.   
“I mean, to still kiss like that after so long together? Like it was somehow your very first kiss? I've never seen you like that with anyone.”  
You smiled softly and brought your fingers to your bottom lip as the phantom touch of Bucky's lips lingered.  
“Bucky isn't just anyone.”


	6. Chapter 6

Parting from Pepper felt like unzipping out of too tight jeans and the pool hall you found yourself in after Bucky came home from work was like slipping into loose, unwashed, crusty lounge pants. The place was dingy and poorly lit everywhere except the hooded fluorescent bulbs hanging over each pool table and a thick layer of smoke hazed the stagnant air. Sam promised to join you both after his date but the sly wink he shot your way screamed “don't wait up”.   
“First round's on me.” you offered.   
Bucky raised an eyebrow and smirked, maneuvering around tables and players with natural ease.  
“First lunch and now drinks? I think I should start referring to you as my sugar mama, darlin.”  
You slid behind him as the path became blocked by an extended pool cue and took a moment to school your face. He may have been joking about the sugar mama part but the way he called you darlin erupted your stomach with fluttering nerves.   
“I'm trying to make up for the whole lunch ordeal.” you explained, elongating your stride to reclaim your spot beside him.   
Bucky didn't comment, not even in an inaudible way with a shrug or turn down of his mouth. You hated to admit it, even to yourself, but you were dying to know how he felt about it all. Was he upset? Was he embarrassed? Was he regretting the charade? Was he indifferent to the whole thing and if he was why was that somehow worse than him hating it?  
Bucky's drink was ordered with a flick of his fingers at the bartender; a silent exchange of familiarity. You realized suddenly as Bucky left to claim a table, that you knew very little about Bucky outside of his apartment. Hell, before today you didn't even know where he worked, only that he was a mechanic of some sort. The thing was that you wanted to know about Bucky and the things he liked and the places he frequented. You quickly ordered a shot to go along with your beers and downed it before leaving the bar top to join Bucky. If you were going to put yourself out there you would need a quick burn from Mr Daniels first.  
Bucky had already set up the game, fifteen balls neatly packed together in a triangular formation. He accepted his beer with one hand and offered you a pool cue with the other.   
“So, you come here often?”  
A curt nod was all you received as he broke the formation and scattered striped and solid balls across green felt. A solid red fell into the corner pocket.  
“You're stripes.”  
The first game was laughable. If Bucky's regular attendance at the pool hall was unclear before, it was pretty obvious as he smoothly pocketed each solid ball. Your experience with the game had come to a halt after college but while your first attempts were laughable, you were slowly easing into the movements and strategies you used to equip at parties.   
“Not bad.”   
Bucky did actually sound impressed which managed to annoy you more anything. He had dodged your attempts to get to know him the whole game and frankly you were tired of the one to two word responses. Your bottom lip burned as you pulled at the flesh with your teeth. Your mind told you to give him the silent treatment as he was doing to you but your mouth just wanted to run.  
It had been like that since the beginning between you, since Bucky had pounded his fist against your door in the late night of your first day in the apartment. It had been easier to tear into each other than for either of you to admit fault, even after you had met Sam and started hanging out at their apartment. You both had settled down recently, but between the cold shoulder and cold beers you were ready to take the gloves off and move back to square one.  
“Your aim is there but you need to back it with some strength. Don't be afraid to really hit the ball.”  
“I didn't ask for your advice.”   
The alcohol had loosened your lips and given you no time to capture them between your teeth again. Bucky lifted his hands in surrender. He leaned back against the table and you watched the balls teeter in place, threatening to break their shape.   
“You're right. You've been asking a lot of questions but you didn't ask for that.”  
Your bottom lip was raw as you gnashed it between your teeth. He outright acknowledged your questions, essentially rubbed them in your face unanswered. You stood tall and crossed your arms.  
“Yet, the only answer I've gotten is for a question I didn't ask.”  
“I don't like to share.”  
“We are a couple,” you countered, leaving out the part where you should have said ‘pretend’, “we should know about each other. Just in case.”  
Your ‘in case’ could be elaborated to ‘in case Pepper pulls a stunt like today and we're both left with egg on our faces and while that's all you have to deal with I will also lose my best friend.’ but you felt like it didn't have to be said, just like the pretend part of your relationship didn't have to be said out loud.  
“Sink a ball, ask a question. One game only.”  
“That's fair.”  
It wasn't fair. Bucky had a clear advantage. But you shrugged it off and focused on breaking.   
“Stripes again.”  
You turned to Bucky, wanting him to see your triumphant, smug smile. You had earned your first question.  
“You smoke?”  
Bucky's large hands cupped the flame of a lighter, shielding it from an imaginary wind that threatened to blow it out. With a quick inhale and exhale he pocketed the lighter, talking out of the side of his mouth as to not lose the cigarette between his lips.  
“Only when I drink. Bad habit.”  
You could barely register the words, too entranced by the way his lips moved as he took another drag. You hated smokers, hated the way they smelled, how they always had to drop everything to go have a smoke outside even if it was snowing or raining. You hated it, but had always been attracted to it, like a dimwitted moth to the lighted end you had found yourself drawn to more than one smoker boyfriend before.   
“Have you ever tried to quit?”  
“One ball, one question.”  
Your eyes finally left his lips, meeting his eyes in challenge.  
“That wasn't my question!”  
“Shouldn't have asked it then.”  
He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth to smile, tendrils of smoke climbing like vines as they snaked out from between his teeth. His mouth relaxed a little to let the rest of it leave his lungs. The cigarette took its place back between his lips as he readied up his shot. The solid yellow ball dropped into a side pocket, the purple one falling into the same hole as your first one, sounding off a solid sound of impact.  
“First, what perfume do you wear.”  
“That's your first question?”  
He shrugged, leaning against the pool cue and flicking ash into a nearby ashtray.  
“I like the smell. Just curious.”  
“It's Chanel.”  
It was Chanel, though not in its purest form. The bottle had been watered down to make it last longer and you only allowed one spritz as you got ready each morning. Despite this the bottle was almost empty. As if someone sprayed perfume on your tongue your mouth became foul tasting at the reminder yet again of how your life had changed and how desperately you tried to hold on to who you used to be.   
You waited for the second question, but Bucky stared down at the table with a thoughtful expression. His cigarette was burning close to his knuckles as he pulled it away and stubbed out the embers.   
“How do you feel about Pepper and Tony?”  
It was your turn to stare at the table and think carefully. You hadn't really thought about it before and you wondered suddenly if that made you a bad friend.   
“Pepper seems happy and that's all that matters to me.”  
It was the only thing you could come up with that didn't make you sound like a selfish friend, but the words sounded insincere even to your own ears. With a sigh you lined up your next shot, talking through the guilt you felt for the things you thought and said.  
“That's not true. Pepper has always been good at handling her relationships, even when they got bad. I'm don't know Tony well enough to make any judgment on him, but I trust Pepper's judgment. It all just happened so fast.”  
Bucky nodded, “Some relationships are like that. Whirlwind romances that end just as quickly or somehow last a lifetime. I hope there's in the latter.”  
The game continued and though you'd like to believe you had gotten better at pool it was more than likely that Bucky was going easy on you. Your remaining balls dwindled down steadily and Bucky was taking down his final ball, then one of you would have to sink the eight ball and declare the winner.   
“Do you have any siblings?”  
Bucky's questions had mostly revolved around things like this: family, hobbies, and favorite things. The asking about your perfume and a very odd request to borrow your waffle maker again next weekend were the only questions to throw you off guard enough to almost be completely honest. Every other question you considered each word carefully and only elaborated enough to not arouse suspicion.  
“A younger brother. We don't talk much but I see him during holidays.”  
“I have a younger sister. And I'll have a nephew in a few months.”  
For someone who doesn't like to share you had learned a lot about Bucky, some things you even learned unasked and those tidbits were the ones you enjoyed the most.   
“Congratulations!”  
The smile on Bucky's face was unabashed and he practically glowed with excitement and pride. You wanted to see more of this face, more of all his expressions really. He was still smiling as he bent over to aim of the eight ball.  
“If I make this, then the next question I ask has to be answered honestly and completely.”  
Your heart sank into a barrel of anxiety.  
“And if I win?”  
“You can have whatever you want, doll.”  
Would it be crazy to ask for this relationship to be real? You swallowed heavily as you watched his cue knock the white ball and then watched that ball hit the eight ball. It veered left and hit the edge of the table, slowing down as it approached a corner pocket. You held your breath as it rolled to the edge and dangled dangerously over the rim. You both waited one beat, then another, but the ball did not move.  
“Damn.” You heard Bucky mutter under his breath.   
Though the white cue ball was oddly angled for your shot you managed to hit it straight toward the eight ball. By some miracle it did not fall along with the eight ball into the pocket and foul you into losing. You held a small, one woman celebration for yourself. Bucky sauntered over, game forgotten, and sat down on the edge of the table. He hooked his index finger into a loop on your jeans and tugged you closer so the tops of your thighs touched his.   
“So, anything you want from me doll?”  
You couldn't think, couldn't produce any thought past the way Bucky and you were standing, so close. This could be real, just ask for it.  
You could feel Bucky's breath on your lips, smell the familiar, enticing scent of tobacco mixed with the sourness of beer. You watched his eyes roam your face and felt his hands twitch on your hips, adjusting their pressure all the way down to each fingertip.  
This wasn't like the kiss earlier today, sudden and public. This was a kiss that was building up, a kiss that felt like it would happen only for the two of you and no one else. His lips were warm as they met yours. Hands held you steady at your hips but you draped yours along his shoulders anyway. There was no rush in the way your mouths moved, no urgency to get to a mess of tongues and heavy breathing. You could spend hours like this, letting his lips capture yours in lazy tenderness. A small, polite cough pulled you away, and through your hazy, kiss-addled mind you recognized the blond man who worked with Bucky standing next to you  
“Hey, sorry I'm late Buck. Peggy called looking for an update right when I was closing up.”  
Bucky’s hands didn't leave your hips and his eyes struggled to part from yours as well. You stepped back which seemed to break the spell and he finally managed to turn and acknowledge his friend.  
“Sure, no problem Steve. I'll rack up while you get a drink.”


	7. Chapter 7

It was past midnight and you were barely conscious. Your feet shuffled wearily down the hall to your apartment, a considerable stack of mail in one hand while your other hand dug through your purse, looking for your keys. Now standing in front of your front door you were still searching for your keys, but your body knew how close it was to sitting down and your feet pulsed in an aching anticipation. You considered giving up and making camp in the hall, since you were so tired and your keys obviously didn't want to be found, when a voice from behind startled you into alertness.  
“Need a hand?”  
You turned to Sam with a small smile, hoping you hid your disappointment behind it well enough. He took your bag from your hands and began digging through, pulling out your wallet and portable charger so he would not be encumbered by the bulky items. He eventually found them in the side pocket and inserted the right key into the door for you.  
“Thank you so much Sam.”  
“What are best friends for? Or did Potts permanently replace me in that category?”  
You knew Sam was joking but the feeling of guilt tightened your throat anyway. You hadn't really seen Sam since Pepper came back between the shopping trips and dinners as well as the second job bartending you picked up to compensate for said shopping trips and dinners. You shuffled through the door, leaving it open for Sam to follow if he wanted to. Despite the late hour he allowed himself in and shut the door before occupying your couch. You grabbed two beers from the fridge and joined him with your stack of mail.  
“What's got you coming in after midnight smelling like a frat party?”  
You sighed and sipped your drink, propping your feet up on the coffee table. They begged to be released from your slip resistant tennis shoes but you were too tired.  
“I'm picking up shifts at the bar again.” You confessed.  
Sam's eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise.   
“Why?”  
You simply handed him your unopened credit card bill. You didnt know the exact amount you had racked up in the two weeks Pepper had been home but whatever total Sam was viewing made him whistle lowly.  
“I know, I know. I returned some stuff but I need to pay off the rest so I've been picking up shifts at the bar. You know they're always looking for help.”  
“That's because it's a college bar. Its literally a warzone in there! No wonder you smell like a frat party.”  
You finally toed off your shoes and sighed in relief, flexing and wiggling feeling back into the overworked muscles. Sam looked at your swollen feet thoughtfully before picking himself up off the couch and offering you his hand.  
“Come on, if you're back at that hell hole we might as well go back to our after work routine.”  
You smiled wide and grabbed his hand, letting him do most of the work as your feet protested by cramping up. You wobbled to the bathroom and sat down on the edge of your tub, your feet in the basin. Sam pulled an industrial sized bag of epsom salt from below your sink and began concocting the perfect mix of salt and water to soothe your aches and pain. With the right temperature set he plugged the bath and rolled up his joggers. Side by side you sat on the lip of the tub, enjoying the few minutes where words were not worth shouting over the water rushing from the faucet. When you were submerged up to your ankles Sam turned the knob and the bathroom grew quiet, though not for long.  
“I have to admit when I was at my door I was kind of hoping you were Bucky.”  
Sam made a noise in the back of his throat and you hurried to complete your throat before you sounded like the worst friend in the world.  
“But, I'm glad it was you. I've missed hanging out like old times.”  
“Not this old.” Sam pulled one foot up out of the water and watched the water drip off his heel.  
It's true, neither of you ever thought you'd go back to working in the service industry after so many nights like this one, but you also never thought you'd have go back to your privileged lifestyle, this time without the commas in your bank account. Sam pushed against your shoulder lightly, bringing you out of your reflection. He smirked when he finally had your attention.  
“You got it bad, girl.”  
On it's own accord your foot kicked water in his direction, spackling his pants with dark wet splotches. Already warm from the bath water your skin practically burned with embarrassment.  
“I wasn't thinking about him!”  
Except now you were thinking about him. About how you hadn't seen him in almost four days because of your schedule. About how during any downtime you would replay a kiss in your minds eye, alternating between your first real kiss and your most recent. You thought about texting him so many times, asking him how his day was or telling him you wanted to see him, but you could never come up with an excuse. The ball was in your court but you didn't know how to play the game. And just like all the other times you thought about Bucky you forced a redirection.  
“How are you and Alli?”  
You and Sam soaked and caught up until your toes were wrinkly and your shoulders slumped with exhaustion. You walked Sam to your door and locked it behind him, but not before promising to come over for breakfast before the end of the week. Entering your bedroom you shed your smelly uniform and untied your hair, saving a shower for when you could guarantee you wouldn't fall asleep and hit your head on the slippery tile. The sheets felt like silk against your skin as you crawled between them, but despite your body screaming for rest your mind was wide awake even after your head hit the pillow.   
Picking up your phone from your bedside table your fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to type a message to Bucky, but the time in the top corner forced you to put it back down. The hour was beyond late and the last thing you wanted was too upset the status quo by waking anyone up. You turned on your side and huffed, the logic could not satisfy your desire to in some way interact with Bucky.  
Knock knock knock  
Your knuckles lightly tapped against the wall next to your headboard before you could think the action through, but once it happened you had no hesitation to pull the covered over your head and admonish your impulse. Your heartbeat had only just settled when two noises happened simultaneously.  
Knock knock knock  
Buzz  
Your phone screen lit up the dark bedroom. You couldn't ignore it, not while knowing it might be him.  
Bucky: Don't make me come over there!  
He was angry. You thought sleep would be enough but now you wished for a quick and painless death. The phone was placed face down on the table and the next time it buzzed the room remained dark.  
Bucky: Open up.  
Your heart ricocheted in your chest like a stray bullet, tearing through and destroying every fatigued bone, muscle, and organ. All that was left was a panicked adrenaline that had you out of bed and down the hall faster than your feet could handle. You stumbled into your front door and took a moment to breathe deeply before turning the knob and opening the entryway fully.  
Bucky leant against the wall beside between your apartments, hair in a low bun and sleep in his eyes. He yawned and stretched, his shirt riding up and revealing a toned stomach and deep belly button. Your deep breath was useless, the air was now entering and leaving your lungs to quickly at the sight. Bucky let his arms fall heavy, his clothes settling back into place.  
“Trouble sleeping?”  
“Something like that.” You muttered, hoping you didn't sound as out of air as you were.   
“I can help you with that.”  
He gestured inside and you let him pass, stunned into compliance. He wasn't mad. Not only was he not mad it seemed like he was offering to…  
“Are you coming?”  
You shut the door firmly, locking it behind you before following Bucky.


End file.
